


Professional Edgelord

by Joyd



Series: Undergrad AU [2]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drunken Kissing, Drunken Shenanigans, Frottage, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 16:57:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6864820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joyd/pseuds/Joyd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"If he were any more sober he’d have something to say about them both cumming in their pants like a couple of high schoolers."</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes your Past self makes some pretty awful choices, but sometimes they're your best wingman.<br/>It really works on a case by case basis.</p><p> </p><p>  <s>The title is so unrelated it's not even on the same planet, I just didn't know what to call this thing.</s></p>
            </blockquote>





	Professional Edgelord

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kandayuu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kandayuu/gifts).



> For the prompts: "Grinding" and "At the edge"
> 
> Cross and Tyki just would not cooperate this time around, so now they're both drunk and I never want to look at this again.

There’s a table edge digging into his ass, he’s pretty sure his lip is bleeding, and he’s going to have bruises on his thighs in the shape of fingers, but all that takes a backseat to the buzz of alcohol in his system and the pound of his heartbeat in his ears. Tyki can’t honestly say he even knows how he got in this position, with this upperclassman between his legs and red hair tangled around his fingers, but he’s thankful for whatever ridiculous, drunken decisions Past!Tyki made to get him here. If he could catch a break long enough to inhale properly, he might even be inclined to ask, just so he can make them again, but as it is he can barely take a deep enough breath to moan.

He’s positive they didn’t introduce themselves before this little affair, but everyone - _especially_ the science majors- recognize Cross Marian, at least because there isn’t anyone else in the whole school with hair that red. They’ve never met before, but Tyki’s heard enough about his reputation that he’s not even surprised to find himself in this situation, not really. He’d still like to know what started it, but that can wait until he’s sober and they aren’t rutting against a table at some frat party Lulu dragged him to.

He has to tighten his hold on Cross’ hair to keep his balance, suddenly finding himself forced to balance on one shaky leg as Cross hikes the other one over his hip to press closer. If it weren’t so damn loud in the frat house, Tyki is certain they’d have been caught by now, especially with the way the new angle and extra friction has him shouting. His jeans are too tight for this position to be comfortable, especially as hard as he is, but all he can manage is some babbled complaints in Portuguese that he’s pretty sure Cross doesn’t understand a word of.

It’s fine, he doesn’t actually want to move anyway.

Lulubell is sure to make comments on how he looks like he’s been mauled when they meet up again, what with the multitude of bite marks and hickeys Cross has left on his throat and jaw, but that’s a concern for later. Right now he’s busy making the older man growl and grip him tighter, mouth on his earrings and hands tugging at his hair whenever he rolls his hips _just so_. Tyki doesn’t have a lot of leverage to reciprocate, pinned between Cross’ hips and the table behind him, but that doesn’t stop him from grinding against him in return as best he can. He’s anything but a passive partner, and even drunk and balancing precariously on one foot he isn’t just going to lay back and think of England.

He can feel himself getting close, head swimming and probably deafening Cross in the ear he’s been nipping at. By the rough grind and stuttering rhythm of his hips, he’d guess Cross is too, and if he were any more sober he’d have something to say about them both cumming in their pants like a couple of high schoolers. As it is all he can do is pull the chem major closer with the leg around his, arching his hips and pressing his face to Cross’ jaw in an attempt to muffle the -frankly embarrassingly- loud moan that escapes him as he cums. If Cross even notices Tyki practically ripping his hair out of his head with the grips he has, he doesn’t pause to complain, digging his fingers into Tyki’s thighs and deepening the bruises that he’s sure are already forming.

Tyki is, truth be told, far too lightheaded from the whole affair to say he’s entirely aware for a few minutes after that. When he finally gets his wits about him again it’s to find himself kissing Cross lazily, both of them still coming down from the high of orgasm and too boneless to move any farther than where they are. He’s glad to find that Cross let him lower his leg again, though it barely improves his balance and most of his weight is still on the table, but it’s enough that the blood can flow properly again. If he’d known he was going to be dry humped against a table in a frat house hallway, he would have worn looser jeans.

He’s still a little hazy by the time Cross moves away, though it feels more like the familiar buzz of alcohol rather than the thick, molasses feel of a lingering orgasm. Cross is saying something, but all Tyki gets out of it is something about the labs and maybe Lulubell, and then between one blink and the next he’s alone in the hallway. He’s a bit disappointed with his past self now, for drinking so much he couldn’t manage to shake himself back into coherency in time to get the upperclassman’s number, but there will be other chances, hopefully when he’s sober.

For now he needs to find a bathroom and get cleaned up before Lulu finds him, because that is absolutely the last thing he wants to deal with on this otherwise fantastic end to the night.


End file.
